One Step Closer
by LumosLyra
Summary: "For the briefest moment, chocolate brown eyes met stormy and troubled steel and the look in his eyes conveyed what she knew to be true, though her heart shattered at the implications. It wasn't possible. Forget. Move on." Perhaps the fates would find a way to bring them together once more. Sweet, fluffy one-shot set ten years in the future. Disregards the epilogue.


A/N: One Step Closer was originally intended to be a multi-chapter fic and was one of the first stories I posted when I started writing fanfiction again in February/March 2018. Instead, it's ended up as a sweet, fluffy one-shot. I've deleted the original multi-chapter which at this point had 8 reviews, 17 favorites, and 55 follows. Thank you to everyone who decided to read the original story I began (and have now revised and continued in this format). I hope you enjoy!

One Step Closer was inspired by "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri. You will see the lyrics of the story spread throughout. As always, standard disclaimers apply. I just love to play around in the world JK Rowling created.

 _ **The day we met**_

 _ **Frozen I held my breath.**_

 _ **Right from the start**_

 _ **I knew I found a home for my heart**_

 _ **Heart beats fast**_

Eleven-year-old Hermione Granger pulled in a deep breath, analyzing each and every detail of the outline of the Hogwarts Express before her. She had read about it, of course, but the sleek body of the train and the thoughts of where it was taking her made this moment all the more exciting. She bid farewell to her parents at Platform 9 and 3/4, hugging each of them in turn and promising to write every week before taking her case and stepping up into the train, effectively starting her official journey into the wizarding world as she waved goodbye to her muggle parents. Hermione moved down the narrow corridor, peeking into the various compartments; viewing the excited faces of the other first-year students who would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time as well as those of seasoned students who were laughing and joking amongst themselves.

While peeking into a compartment filled with several giggling girls who couldn't be but a few years older than herself, Hermione suddenly found herself falling backward onto the floor of the corridor, having collided with something – no someone. When she was able to focus her eyes, she saw a first year wearing impeccably tailored robes holding his hand out to her.

"I-I'm sorry", she stammered sheepishly, grasping the offered hand as a pretty blush spread over the apples of her cheeks, "I wasn't watching where I was going." The train lurched forward and she had to grasp a railing in the corridor to keep her balance so she wouldn't fall into the boy for the second time.

Their hands separated as Hermione regained her balance as the rocking of the train settled to a gentle lull. "Don't worry about it," he muttered with a small, almost wary smile as their eyes met for the first time. Hermione had never seen eyes so gray, they were like deep pools covered by storm clouds with flecks of blue and flashes of white lightning when the light hit them in just the right way. She found herself entranced.

The blonde boy with the fascinating eyes introduced himself as Draco Malfoy in a tone that was just a bit too arrogant, though there was still an underlying friendly quality to it. After she introduced herself in turn she watched as a haughty sneer mask his previously friendly features and found herself utterly confused by the boy's sudden turn. How could her name cause such a shift in his countenance and demeanor? He rudely pushed past her and she turned to watch him walk away, slipping into a compartment down the corridor, knowing she would never forget the color of his eyes.

 _ **Colors and promises**_

Hermione spoke quietly with Ginny Weasley, in Flourish and Blotts, waiting to get their books signed by Gilderoy Lockhart who she thought was utterly dreamy and given the veritable library of his books she was purchasing for her second year at Hogwarts, likely quite a studious and brilliant wizard. A few moments passed in the slowly moving line and during a lull in the conversation, her eyes caught the gaze a pair of stormy gray eyes from where he was standing on the second level. He held a book in his hands and was thumbing through it and she wondered if he was doing it simply because he wanted to avoid her gaze. She felt a blush creep over her cheeks and her heart skipped a beat, though she couldn't pin down the reason for it. There was no reason such a nasty, vile person should elicit any sort of feelings in her other than distaste and perhaps pity. He and Harry seemed at odds during the majority of her first year but that did nothing to lessen her curiosity about the young wizard with dark, thunderous gray eyes.

Several months into the school year, Hermione found herself weeping silently to herself in the girls bathroom because of a nasty slur he had flung her way. _Mudblood_ he had called her. Initially, she wasn't fazed by the comment – being a muggleborn she had no context for the slur until Ron fully explained the implications to her. It wasn't even the word he had used that bothered her but the venom and vitriol behind it. She could feel his apparent loathing of her, though she had done nothing to him apart from having been born to muggle parents rather than wizarding ones.

Hermione wondered why he felt the need to seek her out, to call her such a vile word and she found herself pitying the blonde wizard. If he had to lash out in such a way, his own life at home must not be very good, despite the impeccable quality of his robes and his fancy new broom. Money can't buy love and perhaps he was rich in one but not the other.

Hermione gave into her emotions for a few more minutes and cried herself out. When the tears were no more than a memory she dried her eyes, squared her shoulders, and gathered her courage. She would not let him beat her down. She was stronger than that and she was determined to prove exactly what she was capable of.

 _ **How to be brave**_

The sting of her palm connecting with his cheek felt like white-hot lightning, but the triumph she felt at standing up for herself and her friends lit a fire in her chest that radiated outward. She stood there confident and challenging and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle quickly retreated across the grounds, nearly scrambling away from her in her blaze of glory.

He briefly glanced back at her as she stood there, daring the three of them to return and she saw an amused expression cross his features. She recognized it as the same one he wore the first day she met him on the train to Hogwarts back in her first year. Chocolate brown eyes met stormy gray and something passed between them – a momentary sense of understanding. They were equals, blood status be damned, and she was certain Malfoy knew it.

 _ **How can I love when I'm afraid to fall**_

A careless and jubilant laugh escaped Hermione's lip as Viktor Krum twirled her around the dance floor that had been set up in the Great Hall as part of the Yule Ball. Her periwinkle dress robes fluttered around her ankles as they danced, tucking in at her waist and highlighting the emerging curves of her fifteen-year-old form. Wisps of chestnut curls framed her face as they escaped from the low, elegant knot positioned at the nape of her neck. She looked and felt completely lovely for one of the first times in her adolescence.

As Viktor whisked her over towards the refreshment table, Hermione's eyes darted around the room, once again meeting a pair of eyes the color of storm clouds. She smiled and laughed breathlessly and his features softened from his carefully placed mask before quickly replacing the almost regretful expression with a scowl. Her view of him was obscured when Viktor presented her with a crystal goblet filled with a punch clearly laced with cinnamon and her thoughts once again shifted to the blonde boy with the enchanting eyes.

 _ **But watching you stand alone**_

Hermione picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet and sipped on a mug of steaming coffee with a caramel colored foam as she skimmed the headlines. One headline flashing across the front page caught her eye - _Lucius Malfoy Imprisoned._ The rest of the article went on to describe the elder Malfoy's participation in the fiasco that was the Battle of the Department of Mysteries that she herself had participated in not even a week ago. She was still recovering from the curse Dolohov had sent her way.

"He must be devastated" she whispered to herself, feeling her breath catch in her throat the moment the words escaped her lips. Why did he invade her thoughts at the moment she least expected?

Malfoy looked awful. There was no other way to describe it. His normally crisp uniform was wrinkled and possibly stained. His pale skin appeared sallower than ever before and his eyes were deadened, framed by dark purplish circles.

The sixteen-year-old witch tore her eyes away from his should she accidentally be caught staring at Malfoy of all people… again. She attempted to concentrate on the transfiguring a candelabra into a canary but her thoughts continued to wander to a certain young, blonde, and clearly distressed wizard. Following class, Hermione found herself in the library. Dropping her bag onto the familiar table she often used for studying, Hermione went to peruse the stacks, trailing her fingertips over the endless ancient tomes as she idly searched for a particular text on Arithmancy.

Hermione had just pulled a tome from the self when a snippet of a conversation stopped her in her tracks.

"It's done." He said cryptically, though his tone belied his anger and frustration over whatever _it_ was. Hermione worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she peeked through a tiny gap between two books, watching the exchange between Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape.

Professor Snape laid a calming hand on the blonde boy's shoulder, giving him a curt nod. "I will send word. Thank you, Draco." Draco inclined his head and Snape spun on his heels, his teaching robes billowing out behind him.

Hermione silently re-shelved the book she had been holding as she watched Malfoy sink down against the shelves. He pulled his knees to his chest and roughly raked his fingers through his silvery-blonde hair and Hermione thought she saw his hand shaking as he did so. Without warning, he slammed his fist down onto the flagstone floor, bloodying his knuckles.

Before she realized exactly what she was doing, Hermione found herself at his side. She grasped his hand in her own and hovered her wand over his knuckles, muttering the incantations for blood siphoning and healing charms. As she watched the small tears in his flesh knit together, she marveled at how soft and warm his hand was.

Perhaps it was because he was bewildered by his actions that he did not pull away even as their eyes met. With their faces being mere inches apart, she had a few brief moments to study his eyes closely, an opportunity she had not been awarded since their first encounter on the train many years before. Where before his eyes had looked tempestuous and deep, now they appeared haunted and wan from what she suspected were worries which no sixteen-year-old boy should carry. She knew of his family history and their suspected ties to the Dark Lord, though she couldn't possibly understand exactly what had been asked of him in this moment in time.

Without a word, Malfoy tucked a stray curl behind her ear, the pad of his thumb lightly grazing her cheek before turning his back on her and tucking his hands in his pockets, sauntering out of the library with his back straighter than she had seen it in weeks.

 _ **All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow**_

High, cruel, taunting laughter filled Hermione's ears as her back arched, releasing an anguished scream as the curse lit her veins on fire. Bellatrix Lestrange held Hermione to the floor, pressing a knife against her throat even as tiny droplets of bright red blood ran in rivulets down her arm from the word carved into her forearm.

Another jolt of white-hot pain seared through Hermione's body as the unstable witch whispered yet another _Crucio_ with profound glee. When the pain briefly subsided, Hermione battled unconsciousness, catching a glimpse of his tall, lean form lurking in the shadows, watching the scene play out before him. As the darkness overtook her, she recognized the look of anguish and regret in his eyes and she knew there was nothing he could do to save her.

Hearing the faint sound of voices arguing from another room, Hermione stirred, eyes fluttering and closing just as quickly as they had opened. Too bright lights caused a rush of pain to her head that only the darkness seemed to soothe. As she came to, she became aware of a pair of arms cradling her form, fingers tenderly stroking her curls and whispered words she couldn't quite make out in the haze left behind from enduring repeated rounds of the _Cruciatus_ curse.

As she shifted her weight unconsciously, she felt his arms draw around her protectively. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light and ignoring the dull, throbbing pain in her temple, she caught the sight of his charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows leaving his mark fully on display. She brushed her thumb over the mark causing him to flinch even as he buried his face in her curls.

"Granger, I'm so sorry." He whispered in a shaky, near-silent voice against the curve of her ear. "I didn't have a choice." He said, intertwining their fingers together.

Hermione traced the outline of his mark, nodding weakly. "I know." She breathed, the voices from the next room growing louder. She could make out an argument taking place about who was going to summon the Dark Lord and she felt Draco's body tense beneath her.

He brushed his lips against her hair and untangled his arms from around her small, weak form. "I have to go now – they're about to come back in." He whispered, giving her hand one last squeeze. "I promise I will get you out of here."

 _ **One step closer**_

Voldemort's voice echoed throughout the courtyard announcing the death of Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived. She could see her best friend's lifeless form being carried and cradled so gently by Hagrid, who appeared distraught that the boy's apparent death. She leaned into Ron with tears streaming down her face as the other third of their trio wrapped an arm around her shoulder in solidarity and a paltry attempt at comfort.

The high, lilting voice of Narcissa Malfoy beckoned her son to join their family from across the courtyard and Hermione was momentarily snapped out of her grief. The crowd parted and from somewhere behind Hermione and Ron, Draco Malfoy began to cross the courtyard with a set to his shoulders and all of the grace he could muster as the Dark Lord praised him. For the briefest moment, chocolate brown eyes met stormy and troubled steel and the look in his eyes conveyed what she knew to be true, though her heart shattered at the implications.

It wasn't possible. Forget. Move on.

It was at that moment that the Boy Who Lived leapt from the giant's arms and the courtyard descended into chaos. It was also the last time Hermione set her eyes upon Draco Malfoy as he retreated from the ensuing battle with his parents.

 _ **I have died every day, waiting for you  
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more**_

 _ **Time stands still**_

Rays of sunlight filtered through the window as Draco stirred was roused from sleep by the sound of birds chirping just outside of his window. Water was heated to a scalding temperature as coffee beans were ground and filtered through the water to create a steaming mug of black coffee with a mere flick of his wand and a muttered incantation. With a groan, Draco sat up in bed and drew in a deep breath of the humid morning air wafting in through the cracked window. He ran his fingers roughly through his shoulder-length silver-blonde hair and grasped the steaming mug of coffee from where it hovered in the hair.

After spending a few minutes luxuriating in the smell and taste of the bitter beverage, Draco reluctantly sat the near-empty cup aside and began to dress for his day. He pulled on a pair of tailored jeans and a close-fitting charcoal colored button down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Though the faded Dark Mark was on display, it was somewhat concealed in a sleeve of colorful tattoos spanning from his wrist to his shoulder and bleeding a bit onto his back and chest. Dragons wove their way up his arm as koi jumped in bright ponds surrounded by brilliant foliage and exotic birds.

After clearing the stubble from his jawline with an incantation, Draco tied his hair back at the nape of his neck and cleaned his teeth. While gazing at himself in the mirror, he gave himself a cheeky wink and sauntered out of his bedroom to find his Italian leather shoes which he remembered leaving somewhere near the door.

The twenty-seven-year-old entrepreneur turned professor grabbed a fist full of floo powder and tossed it in the fireplace calling out "Diagon Alley". Stepping into the bright green flames, he was whisked away to Wizarding London. He stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron and made small talk with the proprietress as she fixed him another cup of coffee. Draco made his way to his favorite booth near one of the windows overlooking Diagon Alley and settled in to watch the alley come alive and catch up on the morning news as he did most mornings in the summer. The new fall term at Hogwarts was due to begin within a few short weeks and school lists and letters had been delivered. Draco fully expected the alley to be busier today than in weeks past as students began to gather their supplies for the new term.

The curvy form of a woman with chestnut colored curls flounced and swayed past the window. He experienced a sense of déjà vu as he viewed the curves of her body which were wrapped in dark blue robes and the subtle sway of her hips. Even without seeing her face, she radiated confidence and he heard the jingle of the door as it swung open into the Leaky Cauldron.

"I'll take a coffee to go, please." She said to the proprietress, the sound of _her_ voice causing his breath to catch in his throat. Draco peeked over the top of his copy of the Daily Prophet to watch her in stunned silence. Luscious chestnut colored curls cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, stopping just below her shoulder blades. He could just make out the curve of her nose and the slight smattering of freckles which crossed her cheeks, though he had a full view of the slope of her backside and the curve of her calves. She was just as stunning now as he remembered, if not more so. He remembered every minute detail of the witch who haunted his dreams. Her walk, her smile, her eyes. Merlin, those eyes. They were like deep pools of chocolate flecked with amber and gold. He was certain he could get lost in her eyes for the remainder of his days.

Draco found himself lost in his thoughts, memories flickering before his eyes.

 _The day he first met her on the train was one he would never forget. She had run face first into him and had fallen down as the train began to carry them towards their home for the next seven years. He liked her immediately and had found her smile to be quite pretty, well, as pretty as an eleven-year-old boy could find an eleven year old girl. Unfortunately, her surname gave away her lack of pureblood heritage and he was forced to snub her. If his father ever got wind of him being polite to a muggleborn (only cold and cruel will do) he would wear out his backside with curses Draco didn't want to be on the receiving end of any time soon._

 _In their second year, he had called her a Mudblood. After complaining about the girl to his father all summer (he dare not mention how brilliant he truly thought she was) his father instructed him to put the chit in her place. He didn't miss the regretful look in her beautiful brown eyes and he hurled the slur at her._

 _Third year came and he was so exceedingly proud of her for slapping him across the face. He had deserved every bit of that slap and seeing the fire in her eyes set something alight within him._

 _She had never looked more beautiful than she did on the night of the Yule Ball. He spent the evening with Pansy Parkinson hanging off of his arm when all of his thoughts were consumed with the brightest witch in the room. He found himself intensely jealous of Viktor Krum and wished he could put aside all of the pretenses he held in order to whisk her around the room in his arms. If Pansy noticed his otherwise distracted demeanor, she never said, always playing the contented and gracious role she was raised for, even as he pined after a witch he knew he could never have._

 _While his father had raised him in a certain way and didn't shy away from using rather severe disciplinary methods, his father doted on him and loved him just as much as his mother did. Thus, their world was turned upside down when the patriarch of the family was imprisoned during his fifth year. He caught Granger's pitying and remorseful glances from time to time and he wondered why she cared. He didn't particularly believe all of the rot his father had instilled in him, but he still put forth the visage of a perfect pureblood heir, complete with blood supremacy ideals._

 _During his sixth year, he barely had time to acknowledge the witch whose face he saw so often in his nightmare fueled sleep. Having been presented with a seemingly impossible task, Draco worked himself to the bone in an attempt to find a solution. It was kill one aging man or see his family suffer a fate worse than death at the hands of the megalomaniac residing in his home. The day he completed his task of repairing the vanishing cabinet and informed his godfather, he had been shell-shocked to find that she came to his aid without a thought after he bloodied his knuckles on the floor in frustration. It was as though he was looking into her very soul when he gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. She cared for him, in her own way and as much as he desperately wanted to turn back time and change everything about the way he had treated her from the moment he first laid eyes on her, there was no going back. He settled for the briefest caress which left his fingers tingling for days thereafter. It was enough._

 _The word day of his life came the day she was tortured on the floor in his home, his aunt cackling above her and carving into her flesh with a cursed blade. When everyone left her nearly unconscious on the floor to determine who would summon the Dark Lord, he took his chance. He held her in his arms for a few brief moments whispering the only apology he could convey, something he had been longing to do since that evening the library before the headmaster was killed by his godfather. He wanted to show her he wasn't the persona he put forward to everyone. He needed to apologize for his cowardice and the fact that his hands were tied while she had writhed in pain on the floor of the drawing room where he had once played Exploding Snap with his best friends and knocked over one of his mother's priceless vases when he flew a toy broom when he was four. He left her attempting to formulate a plan for her to escape, but she was saved at the last minute by a house elf of all creatures. That evening, he silently prayed to every deity he had ever heard of that the apparition did not kill her and that she would recover from the aftereffects of the curse and that the wounds inflicted by the cursed blade would heal._

 _The last time their eyes met was when he crossed the courtyard to his family at the final battle. Potter was dead and his family was alive – the world seemed doomed anyway so he might as well be with his own loved ones. It wasn't possible to be with her in any world where the Dark Lord ruled. It wasn't until Potter showed that he wasn't as dead as everyone thought that he realized he permanently placed a target on his back. His family retreated and he glanced back to see her one last time, but she had already turned and was fighting valiantly with other members of the Order._

Draco was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the jingle of the bell and the door leading out into Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron close once more. Looking around he realized that she must have exited the pub since her riotous curls were no longer within his line of sight any longer. Hermione Granger had walked out of his life just as quickly as she had re-entered it. With a resigned sigh, Draco closed his copy of the Daily Prophet and leaned back in his chair.

He had lost track of her over the last two years, so it was surprising to see she was back in London. After the final battle, Draco had followed the wild-haired witch through the pages of the Prophet (and occasionally Witch Weekly). She completed her NEWTs without returning to Hogwarts and began working at the Ministry. Sometime within the past several years, she was asked to serve as a liason to MACUSA which ultimately took her to the states. He followed a few of the cases she worked, mostly involving creature rights and wizard-muggle relations. For the past two years though, the trail had gone completely dark. There were no further mentions of the witch in any major publication. He had even taken to picking up the Quibbler to see if Lovegood had published anything, but it was like she had disappeared from the face of the wizarding world.

While Draco followed Hermione's story, he forged ahead with one of his own – determined to bring some amount of redemption to the Malfoy name and to himself. His father was imprisoned in Azkaban though he and his mother were pardoned. Draco returned to Hogwarts in order to sit for his NEWTs as hiring a private tutor was no longer prudent, given that the ministry had seized a sizeable amount of the Malfoy assets. After receiving top marks, he apprenticed himself to a successful potions master and, after a few years of careful study, became a successful entrepreneur in the potions field building a chain of apothecaries from the ground up and completing independent research. When Professor Slughorn finally retired, Draco made the decision to interview for the position of Potions Master and was surprised to find that he had been selected. While the experience had been new and difficult, Draco enjoyed imparting his knowledge onto the students and helping them grow in their own skills. It had quickly become a labor of love – he didn't even mind supervising the students in Hogsmeade. Well, not too much.

Finishing his coffee and dropping a few coins on the table, Draco rose and tucking his copy of the Daily Prophet into his back pocket. He made his way through the pub and exited into Diagon Alley. The bright sunlight illuminated the closest shopfronts which were proudly displaying their wares in preparation for the influx of new and returning students. He wandered down the cobblestone path and into Flourish and Blotts, taking a moment to relish in the smells of parchment, leather, and that wonderful new book smell. With a gentle wave, he acknowledged the welcome witch whose smile was curled into one of dreamy adoration before making his way through the maze of shelves towards the potions section. He was just trailing his fingertips over several new volumes when he heard it – musical laughter, _her_ musical laughter from just a few rows over.

Draco pressed himself against one of the oak shelves and concentrated on the conversation filtering through the stacks, though he felt a bit silly (and stalkerish) for eavesdropping on his two former school mates.

"Heavens above, Ginevra Potter!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice slightly strained with laughter. "You're squeezing me entirely too tight."

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming into town, 'Mione?" Ginny said. Her voice was laced with obvious excitement.

"I won't be here for too long, remember?" Hermione reminded the youngest Weasley. "I sent you and Harry and owl last week."

"Yes, yes, of course." Ginny said in an offhanded way. "You'll have to come over for supper and tell us all about your new job."

 _New job? So, Granger was back in town because she had some kind of new job._

Hermione nodded silently, though Draco couldn't see her. "Of course. I'd love to come, but I'll have to check with the Headmistress. I'm certain I will have rounds and such to attend to after hours and on the weekends." Hermione released a contented sigh. "It's going to be wonderful being back at Hogwarts again."

Draco nearly sunk to the floor as his knees tried to give out though thankfully he was able to grasp the nearest shelf in time to keep himself upright. He gripped the dark wood with such force that his knuckles turned white while his stomach was decidedly trying to turn over on itself.

What in Salazar's name had he just heard her say?

Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was returning to Hogwarts.

 _ **Beauty in all she is**_

From his position on a plush, dark leather sofa, Draco glanced at the clock on the wall and released an audible groan. He cracked his knuckles and sank further into the cushions fully convinced that time had slowed down merely to torment him. In exactly nine minutes, he would step into his fireplace where he would be whisked away through the vibrant green flames to Hogwarts with the rest of the faculty and staff. In nine excruciating minutes, he would be in the same room as Hermione Granger for the first time in over ten years. Closing his eyes, her perfect face immediately appeared within his minds eye. Smooth, soft curls the color of chocolate framed her face and cascaded like waterfalls down her back, stopping just below her shoulder blades. Rosy cheeks were dotted with tiny freckles that were carried just over the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were a deep, warm brown flecked with gold and amber and framed with dark lashes and sculpted brows. She was a picture of loveliness.

Draco's mind drifted to the moment he nearly encountered the elusive witch in Diagon Alley, which already seemed to be a lifetime ago.

 _A clear, ringing peal of laughter filled the quiet atmosphere of the bookshop as Draco eavesdropped on the conversation between Ginny Potter and Hermione Granger. Though he couldn't see the two witches, the subtle, sultry tone of the latter's voice warmed his heart and recalled the butterflies he had felt years before. He pressed his forehead lightly against two leather-bound tomes as he listened to the conversation between the two witches._

" _How did you find Ilvermorny, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, her tone laced with curiosity._

 _So that's where she had been for the past few years._

" _I'm not certain it can compare to Hogwarts, but it was an interesting and enjoyable experience. They have a similar house system to us but their sorting ceremony was completely fascinating. I'm glad I took the opportunity when it became available."_

" _You taught Potions, right?" Ginny interjected._ Shut it, Potter. _Draco thought_. Let the woman talk.

 _Hermione chuckled. "I'm sure I couldn't compare to Professor Snape, but I think I did the course justice."_

 _Ginny snorted. "No one could billow like that man!"_

 _Hermione's musical laughter filled the air once more. "Not to mention intimidate the pants off of his students. I'll be taking over for Flitwick, teaching Charms."_

" _Oh. I didn't realize he was retiring."_

 _Hermione made a small noise of acknowledgment. "So many of them have retired, or so Minvera tells me."_

" _What brings you to the Alley today? Do you have time for a spot of breakfast?"_

 _Given the brief pause in conversation, he suspected Hermione was checking the same. "I have an appointment to be fitted for new robes in about two hours and I still need to stop by Gringotts and do a bit more shopping, but I'm sure I can make time."_

" _Wonderful!" The redheaded witch exclaimed. "I'm meeting Harry at 9:00, so perhaps you'll join us?"_

" _I'd love that, Ginny, truly." She sounded sincere. "Will your children be there?"_

 _Draco pushed back from the shelves of tomes of varying sizes and grabbed the book he had come in for form the shelf behind him before making his way swiftly towards the front of the shop. As much as Draco wanted to pop out from behind a shelf and have a long conversation with the witch about what happened when they were children, it was neither the time nor the place. Even if it was an auspicious time, he didn't know that he had the nerve. He was already a wreck and he'd only eavesdropped for maybe seven minutes. Instead, Draco dropped a few galleons on the counter and informed the attending witch that he would be paying not only for his own purchase but for those of Ginny Potter and Hermione Granger. He squared his shoulders and sauntered out of the shop and promptly apparated back to his home._

When he glanced back up at the clock, he realized he had managed to kill five minutes with his day dreaming. That left four minutes until he would come face to face with the witch of his dreams (and his nightmares). He lifted himself off of the couch and began to pace the living room of his flat. With Malfoy Manor seized, his mother had moved to France in one of the summer homes that the Ministry did not manage to confiscate. Draco stopped pacing and looked out over the Thames from one of the windows before stalking into the kitchen with a newfound determination.

Unfortunately, that determination only lasted until he poured and downed a shot of fire-whiskey. Liquid courage at its finest.

Another glance at the clock and he realized he only had two minutes left to go. He tucked the bottle of fire whiskey back under the counter after he decided against bringing it along in a flask. If he really needed another shot that bad, he knew several of his colleagues who would gladly oblige – plus there was always the Hogs Head and the Three Broomsticks.

He smoothed his robes and palmed a pocket for his shrunken trunk before finally stepping forward, grabbing a bit of floo powder and calling out his destination.

As soon as he stepped out of the floo and into the Great Hall, Draco heard his name being called out by the familiar voice of a tall, lanky brunette wizard. Draco cleared the soot from his robes and flashing a friendly smile, shook the hand of Neville Longbottom. "Longbottom. Good to see you. How are you?"

Though his expression appeared contentment, there was a troubled look in the young wizard's eyes. "Not too bad. Summer dragged a bit and I'm ready to get back into my green houses."

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head in a bit of disbelief. "You're a terrible liar, Nev. I'd wager to guess you've been here a few days already and have spent the majority of that time in said green houses." He waggled his eyebrows for effect.

Neville shrugged sheepishly with a laugh, reaching back to rub his hand across the back of his head where his hair was cropped close to his scalp. "Guilty as charged."

The two continued to make small talk as they moved to sit at one of the tables in the Great Hall, though Draco glanced around the room to see who had yet to arrive. The war had done a number of many of the professors who had taught at the grand school ten years ago causing several to retire. The new crop of teachers were decided much younger and many were around Draco's age.

Minerva McGonagall was deep in conversation with Rubeus Hagrid who continued to serve as groundskeeper and the primary Care of Magical Creatures professor in one corner of the room. Septima Vector clutched a steaming cup of tea as she conversed with Hannah Abbott who had taken over for Poppy Pomfrey as Matron and Katie Bell who served as the flying instructor, Quidditch referee, and part-time Astronomy professor. While he didn't see the dreamy blonde around, the copy of the Quibbler on a nearby table reminded him that Luna Scamander and her husband Rolf were likely around. Rolf had recently agreed to teach the new advanced Magizoology courses while Luna ran the Quibbler and co-taught Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. He expected to see Zabini somewhere in the Great Hall, the man was persistently early, but either he had yet to arrive or he was down setting up his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, which was the more likely scenario.

"How was your summer, Draco?" Neville inquired, reaching across the table to pour himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Draco snatched a biscuit from the tray of sweets on the table and poured himself a cup of tea. "Calm and relaxing, for the most part," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I spent a few weeks with mother in France and Dubai before conferencing with a few potions masters and sourcing some rare ingredients for a few of my experiments."

Neville nodded, his face stoic. "Gran passed in early June." He said solemnly. "I think I told you she was ill near the end of the term. It wasn't unexpected, she wasn't doing so well towards the end." He frowned, staring into his glass of pumpkin juice.

Draco laid a hand on Neville's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I'm so sorry, Neville. I wish you would've owled me – I would have come to the funeral had I known."

"It was a very quiet affair – just the way Gran wanted it." The wizard affirmed with a sad look to his eyes. While his grandmother no doubt intimidated him in his younger years, he was still quite close to her. Neville drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Apart from that, I spent some time with the Potters and a few other friends then I trekked over to South America to source a few new magical plants from the rainforests there. The third years will be doing a fascinating project with one of the flowers I found."

Draco nodded. "Let me know if you discover any interesting properties from the plants you brought back. I would love to see if any of those properties could translate into a potion." Draco replied, almost itching to get the chance to tinker with new ingredients.

As Neville continued discussing his trip to South America, Draco's attention was draw to the fireplace at the end of the Great Hall as it once again was alight with green flames. The familiar form of the witch he had been waiting for stepped out of the floo in a set of curve hugging aubergine robes which looked stunning against her sun-kissed skin. He was so entranced by her, Draco completely missed the fact that Neville had stopped talking and was staring at him with a smirk on his face while pointing at him and whispering something into Zabini's ear, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Draco watched as the young witch greeted the elderly Headmistress with apparently glee, a glint of friendship in both of their eyes. It was not long after that the staff were called to attention by the wizened witch. She conjured several rows of high-backed, well cushioned chairs in three neat rows in the front of the Great Hall. Various staff members moved from all corners of the vast room and settled into the chairs with Draco taking a seat near the back between Blaise Zabini and Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood settled next to Draco muttering under her breath about a creature he was certain couldn't be real as she gave him a dreamy smile before turning back to her husband. Draco caught a glimpse of Hermione's curls as she was seated center front and a small part of him wanted to shake his head and snort in laughter at her apparent swottiness. Just as he remembered, though he hoped she had grown out of her habit of excessive hand raising.

Blaise gave him a knowing grin just as the Headmistress began to welcome the staff members back to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Before we begin discussing a few new procedures, I would like to take the time to introduce a few new members of staff." She said, gesturing for two witches to rise from their seats.

"Firstly, Ms. Penelope Clearwater will be joining our staff as our new Professor of Muggle Studies and Relations. Ms. Clearwater has severed as a liaison to the Muggle Relations Office for the past several years and was integral in drafting new curriculum for the approved course. We are delighted to have her on our staff." After McGonagall finished the introduction, the tall, thin witch with dark blonde hair smiled and flushed before promptly clasping her hands in front of her and sitting down in her chair, leaving Hermione to stand on her own.

"Our second new addition comes to us from two years of teaching at the Ilvermorny School in America, but is well known to everyone in this room for her efforts during the war and her work through our own Ministry of Magic. Ms. Hermione Granger will be taking over for Filius as our new Charms professor."

Hermione turned to face the rest of the staff and gave a timid wave, her eyes growing just a bit wider as she locked eyes with Draco Malfoy for the first time in ten years. Draco, who had school his features into a look of cool, but friendly indifference, inclined his head politely.

The veteran staff erupted into applause for the two new staff members even as Draco's eyes remained locked on Hermione's for a precious few seconds before she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and settled back into her hair.

Draco kept his eyes on her curls as McGonagall droned on about standard policies and procedures. Students were not allowed into the Forbidden Forest without an adult escort. Quidditch was set to resume in the fall and the Heads of House should coordinate with the captains when tryouts were to occur. Staff were required to supervise Hogsmeade weekends on a rotating schedule which would be posted in the staff common room as well as other social events to promote inter-house unity through the school year. Staff members residing in the castle would be required to do periodic nightly rounds while those residing in Hogsmeade or other locations would be given additional duties throughout the school year to ensure fairness. All staff members were expected to keep and post office hours and organize tutoring groups as needed.

A few new bits were added as well. Following the welcome feast, the normally long tables which separated the houses would be replaced with smaller rounder tables – it was determined that this might promote more inter-house unity by giving students a chance to sit with those from other houses. The new Muggle Studies and Relations course was now compulsory from first through fourth year while an advanced Alchemy class (which Draco would teach) was being added for sixth and seventh year NEWT students who received Exceeds Expectations or higher on the OWLs.

Given several staff changes over the last few years, McGonagall had taken it upon herself to reorganize who would be heading up each house. Several staff members had requested to step down or have their roles redefined based on new responsibilities. Rolf Scamander would be the new Head of Hufflepuff while Septima Vector had taken over Ravenclaw. The welfare of Gryffindor was placed in the hands of Neville Longbottom while Draco Malfoy had been selected to take over Slytherin.

Eventually, the staff broke for tea following a few more announcements. Draco settled at a table with Blaise and Neville, the three wizards having developed an odd friendship over the last year. While Blaise and Draco had been friends for ages, it took a bit longer for Draco to mend a broken relationship with Neville. Once Draco apologized for being an utter prat while they were in school, the two wizards found common ground over the properties of magical plants. Neville and Blaise managed to hit it off simply because Blaise turned on his charm and Neville had been caught in his snare. During the school year, the three wizards stuck together and enjoyed pints regularly down in Hogsmeade.

As he poured himself a cup of tea and grabbed a sandwich from the tray, Draco glanced around the Great Hall. Hermione had been sequestered by several of the younger witches and they were giggling profusely about things Draco couldn't even dare to imagine. The sound of her laughter was even more infectious than Draco remembered.

While Blaise was many things – charming, handsome, and quite skilled in many areas both magical and mundane, he was intensely proud of his deductive abilities. He was astute, subtle, and cunning – the very picture of a perfect Slytherin. If he didn't love teaching so much, he would have made a fantastic spy. He followed Draco's gaze to the group of giggling witches and recognized the nearly concealed lovesick puppy look on Draco's face. The blonde wizard had always had it bad for the Golden Girl, but Blaise had (wrongly) assumed these feelings had dissipated over the years. Draco had dated several witches and had almost entered into a courtship with Astoria Greengrass, but eventually called it off much to the girl's disappointment.

Blaise nudged Draco with light shove to his shoulder, "Oi. Draco. Are you with us?"

Draco flushed a light pink and attempted to school his features back to one of cool indifference but his friends just looked at him and laughed. "Pints at the pub, tonight?" Blaise offered with a shake of his head and a smirk.

Draco nodded, forcing his attention back to his sandwich and his friends. "Yeah. Pints."

 _ **I will be brave**_

 _ **I will not let anything, take away**_

 _ **What's standing in front of me**_

Hermione Granger wandered down the dimly lit corridor leading to the staff rooms on the second floor, pensively chewing her on bottom lip and twirling her vinewood wand through her fingers. She located the room labeled with her name in elegant script and whispered the password, the heavy oak door swinging open before her. Hermione stepped into the well-lit room and immediately crossed the smalle space to gaze out of the window. She had a lovely view of the lake and could see the ripples in the water where she knew a myriad of creatures were fluttering about just beneath the surface. As her eyes took in the familiar landscape from this unfamiliar viewpoint, Hermione caught sight of a certain blonde wizard perched on a large boulder, apparently staring out over the rippling water.

Hermione had expected many things upon her return to London. Immediately finding herself in the presence of Draco Malfoy was not one of them. The last time she had even set eyes on him was the night of the final battle and even in the few brief moments in which she had shared his presence in the Great Hall, she found him much changed.

For one thing, he looked happy. He smiled and appeared more carefree than she had ever seen him before. His posture was one of a confident man and his appearance certainly left her a bit weak at the knees. She wanted to examine the ink on his arm in close detail, but as they hadn't so much as exchanged a "hello" she didn't feel it prudent to ask to examine his tattoos. Neville had cornered her earlier in the day and asked her to join them for drinks at the pub, but she politely declined citing the need to unpack and get settled in. In reality, she wasn't certain she could face a certain blonde wizard who was sure to be there.

It wasn't that she harbored any ill feelings towards him, quite the opposite in fact. Her feelings were that of a love lost before it even had a chance to get started. They had grown up on different sides of a war that put children on the front lines to take down one of the worst dark wizards the world had ever seen. The look in his eyes on the last day of the battle told her that something between them simply wasn't possible, though she could see the regret that hid just behind those sentiments. She knew he felt it too. They had been drawn to one another from the beginning, but taking that one step towards the other always seemed to be hindered by something. Her blood status. His family. Her temper. His arrogance. The Order of the Phoenix. Death Eaters.

Hermione pressed her hand to the glass before closing her eyes to imagine a future that might have been had so many things not gone wrong in their lives. It wasn't the first time she had imagined such a thing. Could it be possible that fate was apologizing for ruining any future they may have had together before they even had a chance to get started? After all, they had both ended up at Hogwarts ten years later. Given that he had rooms at the school, Hermione was certain he wasn't married, but that didn't rule out of the possibility of a girlfriend or a fiancée.

Hermione and Ron had fallen into a tempestuous relationship in the aftermath of the battle which was, thankfully, short lived. They were able to salvage their friendship from the ashes of that disaster and he was contently married to Padma Patil. Hermione had dated here and there over the years, but no one had managed to spark anything more in her heart than a simple fondness. The pull she had felt to Draco the moment she laid eyes on him nearly knocked her off of her feet. She relished in those few stolen moments just gazing into his eyes mere hours before.

She opened her eyes and watched the blonde wizard for a few more moments. She wouldn't let fate steal her chance this time. No. Hermione gathered up her Gryffindor courage and swept out of her rooms with billowing robes which would have rivaled the late Professor Snape.

Hermione made her way down the stairs and was just crossing the courtyard, intent on confronting the wizard she had been spying on out of her window when she managed to walk straight into the wizard himself. Long arms reached out with practiced ease to keep her from falling too far off balance and she found herself pressed against his chest. Reflexively, she found her arms wrapped around him, her hands pressed into the curve of his spine as the scent of sandalwood and amber filled her nose. The pair stood frozen in the unintentional embrace for a few moments before separating, unaware of just how much the other didn't want to let go.

The pair stood awkwardly facing one another in the courtyard with Hermione fidgeting with her hands and Draco standing still as could be – thanks to years of etiquette training from his mother. It seemed that while Hermione had decided to take control of her own destiny, once she was finally faced with it, fate seemed to have stolen her voice.

"It's good to see you, Granger." Draco said after a few moments.

Hermione's curls bounced as she nodded her head. "You look well, Draco."

Draco released a chuckle from deep within his chest. "Ten years separated from the troubles of our youth will do that to a man, Hermione."

Hermione released a breath and smiled, the words coming more easily now. "I know what you mean. I had to travel to America to escape the aftermath."

Draco nodded and gestured for them to continue in the direction she was heading before. He fell into step beside her, walking at a leisurely pace. "What brought you back?"

"I missed home." Hermione said, quietly. "Where Ilvermorny is located is really rather beautiful, but there's nothing quite like the Scottish Highlands and the hustle and bustle of London."

"It is rather beautiful." Draco said, though his attention was on the witch at his side, not on the surrounding grounds.

If Hermione noticed, she didn't comment or display any outward signs. "How have you been, Draco?" She asked as they slowly meandered across the grounds.

Draco tucked his hands in his pockets. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Mother is living in France while I have a flat in London. I invested what remained of my inheritance in opening a chain of apothecaries a few years ago before taking this position last year."

"When I came back, I knew I didn't want to work for the Ministry again. I've had enough politics for the rest of my life." She snorted a laugh laced with bitterness. "I was grateful when Minerva offered me this position, though I never expected to find you teaching here."

"Neither did I, if I'm being honest." His laugh was lighthearted and humble. "I wouldn't trade it for the world, though. I really do enjoy teaching the next generation about something I love."

Hermione stopped on the path leading to the lake and stared at the wizard before her. "You've changed, Draco."

Draco untucked his hands from his pockets and placed his hands on the sides of her arms, the aubergine silk wrinkling slightly from his touch. "No, Hermione." He said with a quiet sincerity. "I just don't have to hide who I am any longer." Draco felt relief wash over him to make that confession to the one witch who mattered. He needed her to understand that he wasn't anything like the arrogant pureblooded prat she knew while in school. Well, he was still a bit arrogant when the situation called for it, but he was so much more than what she saw on the surface.

As they resumed their walk towards the lake, Hermione offered him a friendly smile and gazed out over the expansive grounds. "Draco, can we start over?" She said, wording her thoughts carefully. "I would very much like to find out who you are now and just forget everything that happened in the past."

"I think I would like that."

The pair spent the next hour wandering the grounds and conversing about a variety of things, flitting from one topic to the next. They spoke of America and France, Hermione's parents in Australia and Draco's mother. From there the conversation shifted to memory charms, potions, and teaching. The subjects were safe as they were still feeling each other was out. When it came time for Draco to meet Blaise and Neville at the pub, he very nearly blew them off, not wanting to leave Hermione's presence.

Draco glanced down at the watch after noticing the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. "I'm meeting Neville and Blaise down at the pub, would you care to join us?"

"Neville asked to join the three of you earlier and I already turned him down. I think it would look a bit curious if I accepted your invitation having turned him down."

Draco nodded in understanding. "Can we do this again sometime?" He blurted out, feeling his chest growing hot, though it wasn't from the residual summer heat. "Maybe over dinner?"

A pretty blush spread over Hermione's cheeks at the realization that Draco Malfoy was asking her on a date. "I would like that." She affirmed.

"Next Saturday, then?" He asked hopefully.

"It's a date."

 _ **Every breath, every hour has come to this**_

 _ **One step closer**_

Fall term began and suddenly all of the staff members found themselves extremely busy. There were lessons to prepare, Quidditch teams to organize, rounds to walk, and students to supervise and teach. Between all of these things, Hermione and Draco barely found any time to spend together after that first day they walked around the lake. The date they had planned for Saturday had to be cancelled when two of Draco's Slytherins came down with Dragon Pox and he had to brew the required antidote for Madam Abbott who hadn't yet ordered her supply. Though Hermione had planned to help him in the Potions Lab, Minerva managed to catch three Gryffindors sneaking out of their dorm after hours, brooms in hand and had assigned them detention with the new Charms Professor the very same evening.

At each turn, the pair was prevented from going on that first date several times over as summer faded into autumn. It became a running joke between the two of them as their friendship continued to develop, though it seemed as though any romantic entanglements were put on hold. Draco finally decided to take matters into his own hands one night after his fourth attempt to take her out had been unknowingly foiled by a group of mischievous students who decided to nick foods from the kitchen. It was the very act that gave Draco the idea as they scrubbed cauldrons in his lab as part of their detention.

Neither Hermione nor Draco had rounds on the dismal Tuesday evening as rain battered the windows of the ancient castle and Draco took the opportunity to knock on the door to her rooms.

Hermione heard the quiet rapping against her door and pulled her dressing gown around her, covering the pajamas she had already changed into. Seeing Draco standing on the other side of her door brought a smile to her face. He too was dressed in his pajamas with a dressing gown overtop, though his was decidedly more expensive than her own.

"Hey." Hermione said as she opened the door.

Draco offered her his hand, "Come with me. I want to show you something."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly at his mischievous smile, though she took his hand. "What can you possibly want to show me at nearly eleven at night?"

"You'll see." He said as he led her through the castle, his wand lighting their way.

"I feel like a couple of first years who snuck out after curfew." She whispered which was followed quickly by a girlish giggle.

He snorted in laughter. "You don't have to whisper, Hermione. We're the adults here, remember?"

That only made her laugh harder as Draco gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sometimes I forget."

Draco led her through the maze of corridors until they stopped just outside of the library. Hermione paused as she saw firelight flickering under the door. Madam Pince would have retired from the library at least an hour ago. Why was there a fire still lit in the library?

"Why did you bring to me to the library, Draco?" Hermione asked, gazing upwards at the blonde wizard.

Instead of responding, he simply opened the doors before them and pulled her inside. Near the hearth in the center of the cavernous space was a low table upon which were a variety of cheeses, fruits, pastries, cakes, chocolates, and puddings. A pair of flutes bubbling with champagne sat next to the bottle which was frosty with a Chilling Charm.

Giving her hand a squeeze, Draco led Hermione over to the hearth. "I couldn't wait any longer for the stars to align. I hope that you will accept dessert since all of the plans we make for dinner seem to end up foiled by our students."

Hermione was very nearly stunned speechless as she took in the thoughtful gesture and his hopeful words. No one had ever done anything so sweet for her in her entire life, yet here was Draco Malfoy being incredibly charming by setting up a lovely buffet in her favorite place in the entire castle.

"Draco, this is even better than dinner." She said gesturing to the feast before them, when she finally found her voice again.

"How did you manage this?" she asked as they settled onto one of the cozy loveseats near the roaring hearth.

Draco handed the witch at his side one of the champagne flutes. "I had a bit of help from the house elves, though I may have confunded Irma into thinking she had an errand to run in Hogsmeade." He said a bit sheepishly.

Hermione chuckled and plucked a chocolate covered strawberry from one of the trays on the table. "She would never have let you in here if she'd known there was food involved." She said, popping it into her mouth with a small, pleasurable moan at the sweet taste of the fruit.

"That old bat still terrifies me." Draco admitted, taking a sip of champagne before boldly draping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione took the offered opportunity to lean against his warm, lithe frame, tucking herself into his side and resting her head against his shoulder. Summoning a piece of pineapple, she handed it to Draco. "I think I should like to have her job when she finally retires."

Draco savored the tangy sweetness of the pineapple on his tongue. "It fits you quite a bit more than teaching charms does, though you'll smell like parchment and leather even more than you do now." He teased.

"And just how is it you know what I smell like, Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a smirk and a raised brow as she wet her lips with the champagne.

A rumble of easy laughter erupted from his chest as pulled her just a bit closer to him as he listed off three particular scents. "Leather Book Binding. Honeysuckle. Broom Polish."

"I do not smell like broom polish!" she exclaimed with a huff, gazing up at him with a confused expression.

"No, you certainly do not." He affirmed as sudden crack of thunder from the raging storm outside caused Hermione to jump and she reflexively curled herself into the wizard at her side.

Draco buried his face in her curls and pulled his other arm around her. "Apart from the broom polish, you and _Amortentia_ smell exactly the same to me, Hermione." The witch stilled in his arms as he pressed his lips against the top of her head in a chaste kiss. "You always have."

"Freshly mown grass. Parchment. Sandalwood." She replied quietly, her eyes squeezed closed as another violent crack of thunder sounded outside. "You," she added quietly as she realized the implications of his confession and more so that of her own.

 _ **I have died every day, waiting for you**_

 _ **Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years**_

 _ **I'll love you for a thousand more**_

Draco gazed down upon the witch in his arms, wondering how this vibrant and brave witch fit so perfectly against his frame, within his arms, and in the depths of his heart. He silently thanked the fates for bringing her back into his life. Withdrawing an arm from around her, Draco hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. "Hermione, look at me."

In the glow from the fire, her eyes danced with myriad of emotions ranging from relief to confusion to elation. Cupping her cheek with his pam, Draco brushed his thumb across her bottom lip in a silent plea. When her lips parted and her head tilted towards him, he inclined his head and pressed his lips to hers, marveling at the softness. They moved with a careful, slow pace, drinking in the feel of the other as lips parted and pressed again and again.

When they pulled apart, Draco once again pulled his arms around the petite witch and kissed her forehead.

"How long?" Hermione asked as she settled her head against his chest once more, dessert thoroughly forgotten as she listened to the soothing beat of his heart.

"Since the day we met on the train." Draco replied quietly as he twisted an errant curl around his finger.

Knowing she could trace her own feelings back to that exact moment, Hermione tightened her arms around the blonde wizard as the fire flickered and the storm continued to rage outside of their sanctuary in the library. "Think of all of the time we've wasted, Draco."

"I only want to think about how we're one step closer to what could have been. We have our entire lives ahead of us, Hermione."

Finding herself blissfully happy, curled up in the middle of the library in her pajamas on a stormy evening in autumn with _this_ particular wizard was something Hermione had never envisioned in the aftermath of the final battle. The possibility of any sort of life together had been crushed before it had been given the opportunity to start. Before her now were a myriad of possibilities with this man by her side and Hermione lifted her glass of champagne in a toast. "To the future."

Draco touched his glass to hers. "To _our_ future."

 _ **And all along I believed, I would find you**_

 _ **Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years**_

 _ **I'll love you for a thousand more**_

 _ **One step closer  
**_


End file.
